


Castle: Let Me In

by kyoukens



Category: Howl no Ugoku Shiro | Howl's Moving Castle, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Howl's Moving Castle Fusion, Insecure Min Yoongi | Suga, M/M, Magic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Probably going to stray a lot from the movie so i apologize lol, Warlocks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-20 17:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18997285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyoukens/pseuds/kyoukens
Summary: “Shit, shit, shit, fuck!”Yoongi feels his body give up. He slowly unwraps his frigid fingers from the other’s wrist and lets out a sigh. Just as the tips of his fingers slipped from the silk fabric of the man’s shirt pathetically, the other man takes a strong hold on his hand and tugs Yoongi towards his body. Too tired to protest, Yoongi let’s the exhaustion take over and knocks his head to rest on the stranger’s chest.“This ain’t too bad a way to die, I guess” Yoongi murmurs into the soft silk and brings his hands to fist at the man’s sides. Too tired to feel embarrassed at the contact.Above him Yoongi hears a light hum, “I think you’re far too young to die now.”





	Castle: Let Me In

_ Click clack click clack _

 

The heels to Yoongi’s shoes slam against the stone road no matter how softly he attempts to land each step as he runs. He takes a glimpse behind his shoulder every other step and sweat whips across his face as it runs through his dripping fringe. Yoongi can feel the tell tale signs of his lungs giving up. Behind him are formless creatures— their skin is a pungent dark liquid that licks at his heels, which motivates Yoongi to push past his trembling knees and stomp with newfound ferocity. All Yoongi can hear is his own heaving; the erratic thumps of his heart banging against his chest; and his heels on the road as the creatures behind him remain eerily silent.

 

With one last glance over his shoulder, he finds himself running straight into something— or rather, someone. Above him, the person lets out a surprisingly soft  _ oof _ considering the sheer velocity of Yoongi’s pudgy body. He quickly gathers his senses and grabs the taller’s wrist and before he can take another stride he finds them surrounded in the alleyway. 

 

“Shit, shit, shit, fuck!” 

 

Yoongi feels his body give up. He slowly unwraps his frigid fingers from the other’s wrist and lets out a sigh. Just as the tips of his fingers slipped from the silk fabric of the man’s shirt pathetically, the other man takes a strong hold on his hand and tugs Yoongi towards his body. Too tired to protest, Yoongi let’s the exhaustion take over and knocks his head to rest on the stranger’s chest. 

 

“This ain’t too bad a way to die, I guess” Yoongi murmurs into the soft silk and brings his hands to fist at the man’s sides. Too tired to feel embarrassed at the contact.

 

Above him Yoongi hears a light hum, “I think you’re far too young to die now.”

 

With that, the man circles his arms around Yoongi’s waist and brings a leg up to kick off the ground. A surge of panic pulses through Yoongi’s veins and he grapples at the stranger’s shoulders until he finally takes a solid hold around his neck. He could feel the sensitive flesh of his arm chaffe with the grip of his own hands. Yoongi couldn’t even bring himself to make a noise as he watches the formless creatures turn miniscule the higher they fly. 

 

“What the fuck?”

 

“I think what you mean is, ‘ _ thank you’ _ perhaps?” 

 

The man lets out an awkward chortle which causes Yoongi’s eyebrows to furrow and look up and— he pauses. It’s the first time Yoongi actually  _ looked _ at the guy and Yoongi wasn’t sure if he was breathless from the running or the sight in front of him. Contrary to the deep voice, he looked  boyish. He had a childish mirth to him that equated to boundless energy that shone from his eyes. He had half blonde and half strawberry pink hair that literally glistened from the setting Sun behind him. Yoongi’s eyes trailed from the most attractive forehead known to man, down the slope of his nose to the boy’s mouth to an intriguingly rectangular shaped grin. Yoongi really feels as though he’s stopped breathing. The grin in front of him falters and his brows furrow in concern down at Yoongi. 

 

“Hey, you okay down there?”

 

Yoongi feels his eyelids droop to a close as the boy continues to shout and Yoongi felt his own mouth move but couldn’t construct any words. He’s so fucking tired. Yoongi’s grip on the boy’s neck slacken before he falls into unconsciousness. 

  
  


Yoongi wakes to the sound of a crackling fire. Groggily he blinks through the drowsiness and attempts to register his surroundings. He finds himself on a lavishly carpeted floor and surrounding him was an obnoxious variety of knitted, silk, and fur blankets. Yoongi begins to feel claustrophobic and hastily unravels himself from the tangled blankets. He quickly sits up and attempts to calm his breathing as he surveys the room. In front of him is a brick ledge carrying the crackling fire and beneath him is a lush red carpet. The walls are stone grey, but are speckled with countless paintings and shelves of knick knacks so that the stone wall could hardly be seen. 

 

“Good morning!” 

 

Yoongi’s whips his head back to meet the eyes of the boy from the alleyway. He’s carrying a basket and a pan in the other. Yoongi suddenly feels overwhelmingly self conscious. The boy in front of him is dressed just as elegantly as before— but this time with a yellow, red, and blue mixed silk shirt that exposed his chest and some of his shoulders, which was mostly covered by a glittering cape that Yoongi couldn’t quite discern the color of. It appeared to be black but shifted to a blood red as he walked closer to the fire and it now is glittering a dark green. Yoongi takes in the boy in front of him whole alongside the extravagant room and feels the need to cover himself with the blankets. 

 

“I know you can talk, so a good morning would be nice,” the boy says with a pout and Yoongi instantly melts into himself. Yoongi opens his mouth to reply, but is interrupted by a voice behind him.

 

“Merlin! Give the man some room Tae, he just woke up.”

 

That was odd. The only thing Yoongi could recall that was behind him was the fireplace— no door, no hallway. 

 

“I was just trying to start a normal conversation,” the boy, who Yoongi now assumes is Tae, grumbles. 

 

As slow as humanly possible, Yoongi cranes his neck behind him to look at the fireplace. There was no one. Yoongi glanced back to Tae and croaks out a low questioning hum.

 

Suddenly, Yoongi feels a presence behind him. His blood almost boiling as sweat begins to form once again, not just from fear, but from the sheer heat whatever it was behind him was emitting. Yoongi can smell ash as the thing moves in closer to place what feels like a firm hand on his shoulder. Its mouth hovers next to Yoongi’s left ear and the man closes his eyes tight as the thing whispers a low “boo”. 

 

Yoongi is absolutely petrified. 

 

“Ha ha ha, very cute Jimin,” Tae says as he saunters towards Yoongi and nonchalantly flicks the thing off of Yoongi. Yoongi lets out a gasp of breath and looks up at Tae who is kneeling in front of him, the same oddly shaped square smile on his face. As his senses return to him, the tension in his neck instantly relaxes, and he loosens the grip on the blankets beneath him he didn’t even remember taking hold of. Once again Yoongi can feel his heart thrum in panic— at this rate he was going to have a heart attack. 

 

“This seems like a perfect time for introductions! My name is Taehyung, the annoying thing behind you is a fire spirit, Jimin,” Taehyung grins as Yoongi turns around to see a boy with blazing red hair seated on the brick ledge where the fire once was. The boy smirks at Yoongi much to Yoongi’s chagrin, because Yoongi is sure as hell he’s older than the boy judging from his full cheeks and small stature. Jimin gives a small wave and Yoongi can see fire lick through his fingertips to his absolute awe. 

 

“You’re a warlock,” Yoongi whispers more to himself to which Taehyung lets out a familiar hum. 

 

“That I am. Mind telling me your name so we can be acquainted?” Taehyung then puts down his pan to hold a hand out for Yoongi to take. Yoongi hesitates to reciprocate the handshake. The warlock in front of him seems too magical, too ethereal to touch. He sees Taehyung deflate as he detects Yoongi’s hesitance, and with unfounded fervor, Yoongi quickly takes Taehyung’s hand in both of his own— carefully caressing the other. He doesn’t know what it was, but the thought of disappointing Taehyung struck something foul in his chest.  

 

“My name-” Yoongi pauses to clear his sleep ridden throat, “my name is Yoongi,” Taehyung beams and Yoongi melts all over again. Behind him Jimin giggles. 

 

“What a sight, what a sight! Taehyung hasn’t found another friend in years or at least not since Jungkook,” as if summoned, another young fellow comes frolicking in. 

 

“I’m going to assume that’s Jungkook?” 

 

The boy furiously nods, his chestnut brown hair somehow staying perfectly in shape. Yoongi shifts awkwardly in the blankets and takes his hands from Taehyung’s to bring a thick pink silk blanket to cover himself.  _ Merlin _ , he feels so incredibly out of place. He makes eye contact with Taehyung as the boy picks up his pan and he can feel his cheeks blending in with the pink silk surrounding him. Taehyung bites his bottom lip to stop a grin and Yoongi feels downright stupid when his heart somersaults. Taehyung impressively flips the pan in his hand and marches on towards Jimin. 

 

“Can’t start the day without some breakfast, can we?” 

 

Jungkook once again adorably nods, “it is afterall,” Jungkook pauses as a playful grin stretches across his face somehow making him look even younger, “the most important meal of the day”. The last part is directed towards the pouting fire spirit. 

 

Yoongi feels like he’s missing something until Jimin lets out a huff of smoke.

 

“I hate that you use me like this,” and with that Jimin melts, he fucking melts where he sits, and the liquid lava bubbles closer towards the inner pit of the fireplace until it settles and explodes. The fire roars angrily for a while as Jungkook charmingly chortles and releases a puff of smoke as it settles into the crackling fire Yoongi first saw.

 

“He’s a fire spirit, but he still gets angry when we use him like one,” Jungkook snorts and Taehyung shushes the boy and tsks to chastise the boy. 

 

“Don’t be rude. Jimin just doesn’t like how he can’t join in on the fun while he’s like this” Taehyung cooes at the fire and it crackles in response as if taunting Jungkook who proceeds to cross his arms and grumbles, “fine, I’ll get the table ready” and stomps off.

 

Yoongi feels as if he’s about to faint. He smothers his face into his hands as he bends into himself and groans, “can someone” he suddenly perks up like a rod, “please? Please, tell me what’s going on?”.  Taehyung jumps in surprise at Yoongi’s increased volume, but steadily sets the pan on the fire. 

 

“Well,” Taehyung drawls, “I saw you were in a bit of a pickle? Is that how you say it Jungkook?” Taehyung peered over his shoulder to Jungkook who was in the middle of fumbling with a wooden slab.

 

“Uhh yeah, a pickle— a situation, a problem, a complication” Jungkook mutters more to the wooden slab he was wrestling with than at the warlock. Taehyung makes a hum of approval.

 

“Yes! You were in a pickle and I thought I’d give you a hand,” Taehyung’s voice is deep, yet magical with the melodical lilt he projects. “A human is no match for those little glooms, and speaking of,” he pauses to precariously slap ingredients into the pan, making Yoongi wince, “what did you do to get the glooms, well, gloomier?”. 

 

Yoongi gathers the pink silk closer to himself and mumbles, “I don’t know, they just started following me”. Yoongi hears more than sees Jungkook pause to give Taehyung a pointed look. There’s a brief moment of silence before Taehyung says, “nothing you can think of?”.

 

Yoongi shrugs, but then quickly realizes Taehyung can’t see him and affirms with a quaint “nope, no clue”. Yoongi didn’t trust the warlock enough to tell him the truth. After living in the slums his whole life he’s developed a hatred for magics. Only those living in the capitol had the money and power to obtain any type of magic, leaving the rest of the villages to rot in famine, drought, poverty— the list was endless. Yoongi glances between Jungkook and Taehyung and sees that Taehyung is looking at the pan in front of him with a focused fervor as Jungkook raises an eyebrow and sighs. 

 

Yoongi begins to fear that they might actually report him. If they were associated with the King, Yoongi would be sent to trial and decapitated for treason. He nervously rubs his neck at the thought. 

 

“Yoongi?” Taehyung questions making Yoongi gulp to soothe his dry throat. 

 

“Yes?” 

 

Taehyung sighs as he dramatically turns to Yoongi, cape fluttering behind him, revealing the contents of the pan. The bacon appeared to be magically stuck on the pan and the eggs were a gooey brown mess scattered around the bacon. Yoongi scrunches his nose at the sight and takes a whiff of burnt bacon and eggs causing him to somehow gag. He’s never witnessed such a massacre on a pan in his whole life. Jungkook finally stops wrestling with the wooden slab and walks with long strides to observe the concoction.

 

“It always amazes me how you can make potions just fine, but you can’t make a simple breakfast  _ ssaem _ ,” Jungkook seems unfazed but exasperated as he fans the smoke away from his face. 

 

“It’s very different Jungkook, you should know that by now!” Taehyung points the pan offendedly at Jungkook and the younger raises his hands in mock surrender and backs away to where the wooden slab once was, which to Yoongi’s surprise, had turned into a short but wide table. Jungkook salutes and turns to rustle in a inhumanly large pile of junk and finds four mats, all designed with obnoxious amounts of beads and threading. He lazily places the square mats around the table and takes a seat.

 

“Looks like hyung’s gonna have to go out and buy breakfast,” Jungkook chortles as he stretches his arms and leans into the table to rest his head. The fire crackles excitedly, Yoongi can hear the remnants of Jimin’s giggle.

 

“Hey, hey! As I was saying, Yoongi can you-” Taehyung turns back to Yoongi and the pan sloshes precariously causing him to fumble to keep all the contents inside. Yoongi stumbles out of his silk fortress and takes the pan from Taehyung and sets it where Jimin once sat. 

 

“Come again?” Yoongi asks.

 

Taehyung’s grins blooms and Yoongi has the distinct feeling that he’s shrinking. He averts eye contact. 

 

“Can you cook?” Taehyung cocks his head to the side and bends from the waist to match his eyes with Yoongi’s. Flustered, Yoongi backs away further until he bumps into the pan and he scrambles to turn around to make sure it doesn’t fall. The bed of ash that accumulated around Jimin has Yoongi coughing as he attempts to steady the pan. It’s all in vain as ash tosses and lodges its way through every orifice of Yoongi’s body. His throat aches and nose stings once his coughing spell is over. 

 

“Holy shit, you need to clean that up,” Yoongi scolds through watery eyes and turns to glare at the warlock behind him when he finds Taehyung’s hand hovering above his arm. He takes a glance up to see Taehyung’s shocked face staring down at him. Yoongi could never keep his mouth shut. It’s been a constant tick of his like how when he’s nervous he chews on his bottom lip and picks at the dry skin— funnily, something he’s doing right now.

 

“Uhh, yes! Yes, I can cook,” Yoongi averts eye contact and grips at the brick in front of him and jumps back when he feels the ash beneath his hands. He hastily wipes his hands on the front of his ragged pants, which were thankfully black, barely leaving a streak on his clothes. He swears he can see Jimin laughing at him through the flames and internally groans in annoyance. Maybe he should’ve just died at the hands of those glooms. Still behind him, Taehyung moves to take the pan in his hand and proceeds to dump his monstrosity into the fire and to Yoongi’s surprise Jimin actually eats it up. Taehyung observes Yoongi’s disgust with the same childish mirth he saw when they first met eyes and lays the pan on top of the fire. He then gestures towards it as if saying  _ go ahead _ , and Yoongi raises a brow and sighs as he observes the ingredients in front of him. 

  
  
  
  


He makes a simple breakfast with bacon, eggs, and toast. Taehyung and Jungkook had hovered behind him, much to his distaste, with  something akin to amazement dripping from their eyes. If Yoongi hadn’t seen what Taehyung was capable of, he would pity the three. They were now sat at the table Jungkook was previously struggling with. The mat Yoongi sat on had beads sewn in a swirl that poked his bottom causing him to shift uncomfortably. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he had folded up the pink silk he had now staked claim on and draped it over the beaded mat. The other three were far too focused on eating to engage in conversation. Something that Yoongi didn’t mind at all, he was used to silence.

 

He takes the moment to assess the amount of shit he’s in. He seems to be in some sort of castle— the home of a warlock, his apprentice, and a fire spirit. He’s blaringly human and clearly they suspect him to be trouble if the looks Taehyung and Jungkook had passed when the warlock questioned him earlier was anything to go off by. Yoongi knows that nothing good came out of knowing a warlock, and he had to leave before the warlock binds him to the castle, or steals his soul, or takes him to the King, or threatens Namjoon,  _ or, or, or _ . Yoong pauses. He puts a hold on his rambling as he eyeballs the room and is amazed at the sheer amount of clutter tossed on the counter tops. No wonder they had to eat on the floor. 

 

He should be used to the mess, living in the slums and all, but the small home he shared with Namjoon was meticulously cleaned every week. When they first moved in, Namjoon had left his socks  _ everywhere _ and Yoongi had to drill it in Namjoon’s head to put them in the basket. Namjoon. If Taehyung and his small band of magicians didn’t kill him, Namjoon would. The two had split after they saw the hoard of glooms chased after them— of course, there’s the chance that Namjoon didn’t make it, that he was consumed by the gloom and suffocated as he drowned in the inescapable thick bodies of goo. But Yoongi didn’t want to delve down that rabbit hole— he had to be alive, he had to. Maybe it was the mayhem, the magic, or just  _ Taehyung  _ next to him, but he continues to feel faint even as he slowly swallows down bites of breakfast. 

 

The others are quiet as they devour their breakfast only making incoherent groans of approval and Yoongi thinks he hears Jungkook thanking Merlin a couple times. The three are odd. Not at all how Yoongi believes or believed warlocks to be. They seemed child-like and Yoongi couldn’t stomp out his memories from the slums, of the kids that ran around dragging Yoongi out to play hide and seek. Jungkook was clearly the most mischievous as he continuously makes attempts to steal Jimin’s bacon. Yoongi notices burns and blisters scattered across Jungkook’s arms and Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind as he frivolously taunts Jimin with stolen bacon. 

 

Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to  observe Taehyung. The thought of making anymore eye contact with him peaked Yoongi’s already high stress levels. 

 

“Funny, huh?” 

 

Taehyung’s voice shook down Yoongi’s spine and settled deep in his stomach. After a poignant pause Yoongi realizes the comment was meant for him. He keeps his eyes straight at the mess in front of him— Jimin burning a hole through Jungkook’s white shirt and Jungkook not even flinching— Yoongi sighs, the boy would have to throw away such a nice shirt.

 

“They are entertaining, but I can’t help but pity his shirt.” 

 

Taehyung observes Yoongi’s disdain and reaches a hand towards Jungkook, startling Yoongi.

 

“Wait, what are you-” Yoongi stops mid sentence as he sees Taehyung slide his palm along Jungkook’s shirt and the holes begin stitching themselves together, thread by thread. 

 

“Abracadabra!” the warlock exclaims and wiggles his fingers towards Yoongi and, to his surprise, a breathy chuckle slips pass his lips. Jungkook takes the bottom hem of his shirt and stretches it out, so as to observe Taehyung’s handiwork. 

 

“Not bad,  _ ssaem _ . The thread’s the right color this time.”

 

Jimin leans to Jungkook’s side and shoves his chin onto the other’s shoulder to peak at the now hole-less shirt. 

 

“Hm, probably because he wanted to show off.” Jimin eyes Taehyung and raises a teasing eyebrow. Taehyung gawks at the accusation. 

 

“Excuse me, I am a licensed warlock! Of course, I can do something as simple as this.” Taehyung pouts and leans towards Yoongi. Now, Yoongi knows he’s on the smaller side of the spectrum. Knows that he hits just below average in the height department and is constantly reminded of it because of his ridiculously long housemate, Namjoon. But this, having Taehyung next to him leaning closer with his jubilant attitude and mile long shoulders— is making him feel impossibly tiny. Taehyung seems to notice Yoongi’s discomfort and scoots back, the beads under his mat scraping against the wooden floors. 

 

“Sorry, don’t listen to them. I promise I’m a licensed warlock.” Taehyung gathers his hands into his lap and gives Yoongi a small smile, and Yoongi forces himself to reciprocate because it seems like the only response he can muster at the moment. So, Taehyung is a licensed warlock. Licensed warlocks went to academies and were under the supervision of the royal family. Yoongi buries the need to run and find Namjoon.

 

“So, you’re fighting in the war?” Yoongi blurts out and instantly regrets it. He fears he may have offend the other, the last thing he wants is to get caught up in a political blunder with the other three and imprisoned for treason. Taehyung looks down, his mood shifting dramatically. If Yoongi could assign a color to Taehyung it’d be yellow. The kind of yellow you’d pick to color the Sun, the sunflowers, the stars. Right now Taehyung turns into something dark — an inexplicable color of sorrow and pain, and Yoongi panics.

 

“You don’t have to answer me, Taehyung. I’m sorry if I offended you.” Yoongi’s voice is surprisingly stable and his voice appears to relieve some tension in Taehyung’s shoulders. 

 

“I don’t use magic in senseless things like war.” Taehyung remains focused on his hands in his lap, head bowed. Yoongi is stunned into silence. Every licensed warlock had been drafted to the borders to stave off enemies, any warlock who refused was found and beheaded. The thought makes Yoongi grip at his throat and he makes eye contact with Jimin in front of him whose mood is clearly going sour. The fire spirit eyeballs Yoongi as if asking him to say something. Instead, Yoongi can’t bring himself to make a single squeak. The insistent banging in his head is impossible to ignore and there’s a prickling sensation just behind his eyes that only increases the more he blinks.

 

“Uh oh,” Yoongi notes how Jimin sounds more amused than concerned,“ Tae, watch out.” 

 

His head is heavy and sways like a pendulum, back and forth, back and forth, until— stop. 

 

Warmth.

**Author's Note:**

> Whew, so I started working on this au in November and I've just worked up the courage (?) to keep it going. It's almost finals week so I won't be able to update for the next two weeks, but hopefully I'll be back soon ^^


End file.
